


Reichenbach

by LifeoftheUnwashedandUnderpaid



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Reichenbach Angst, Reichenbach Falls, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeoftheUnwashedandUnderpaid/pseuds/LifeoftheUnwashedandUnderpaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim explains his reasoning behind the fall, although Sebastian does not know it when he finds the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reichenbach

Sebastian ran up the stairs of Saint Bart's Hospital in a foggy daze. 'How could he have let this happen?' Upon reaching the rooftop his eyes raked the scene, landing on a bloody pool and a limp figure hidden under a black coat. Sebastian's knees crashed to the ground.

 

Jim sat in an armchair, in the empty apartment. He carefully sipped a half empty whisky bottle before placing it between his knees. He opened the Swiss army knife in his left hand and began drawing thin, deep, lines on his perfectly pale skin. His focus was so far ahead, further than the battered and blood stained wall before him, into a state of blank expressionless focus that had overcome him so often in his days and months of boredom. He didn't notice the pain, nor did he notice the blood dripping onto his spotless Westwood. He allowed his head to loll to the side of the chair, then snap back to attention. He threw the knife, still in his hand, against the wall and sent the bottle of whisky flying after it. Dragging his nails across his scalp, through his perfectly molded hair until it stood up in tufts, he flew up from his chair and dragged his knife across the wall in deep straight lines. He wished the wall would bleed paint, sheet rock, something to prove he had injured it, brought it pain. Everything was so boring and ordinary. He needed something extraordinary to cross his path, something that no one, not even himself, would expect. 'What could he, the self-centered psychopath, do that would cause such a shock.' He had to begin his final game .

 

He couldn't hold back his screams of curses and Jim's name as he punched the hospital roof with as much force as he could manage. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME JIM?!!!! HOW COULD YOU FUCKING DO IT?!!!"

 

Jim watched Sherlock up on the stand, scrutinized like a science experiment. Even as the accused he had fewer eyes on him that Sherlock that day. What a wonderful position to be in. Known but unnoticed. Soon enough this tedious trial would be over and he could move onto the more pressing matter of setting Sherlock up for the newest game.

 

Sebastian dragged himself up off the ground, leaving blood from his knuckles beneath him. He walked with amazing stability towards the body near the side of the rooftop and looked down at his employer, former employer. "I always told you that coat made you look pale boss. Now it's much worse you fucker," Sebastian spat, lighting a cigarette and placing it gingerly between his lips. 

 

Jim had finally planted the last bit of doubt in everyone's minds. He had erased himself from existence. In the morning, everyone would believe Sherlock to be a fraud and he would be completely alone, save for his pet, John Watson. All Jim had left to do was wait. Even when he had created the perfect plan, he was left with boredom. He was too precise, so precise he even bored himself.

 

Crouching down near the body, Moran pulled out his phone from his inside coat pocket. He flipped through the various screens until he found the page containing Jim's message:

Goodbye, love. Be seeing you in hell - JM

The message was sent exactly one hour before. Stubbing out his cigarette on the sleeve of Jim's expensive coat, Sebastian leaned closer to the body. He reached a hand forward to grasp the man's chin before placing a chaste kiss over those lifeless lips. He lay down beside his lover, lay in the pool of blood, his hand in Jim's.

****

In the next day's paper, under the bolded headlines "Suicide of Fake Genius," a smaller paragraph spoke of the two bodies found, just after the suicide, atop Saint Bart's Hospital. One was identified as Richard Brook, assumed to be murdered by Sherlock Holmes before his jump. The other was left unidentified.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please feel free to comment or critique!


End file.
